Confessions of a Murder Suspect By James Patterson

I’m going to be completely honest right now: I don’t remember this book. As in, I vaguely remember what happened, but I can’t for the life of me remember how I felt about it.The thing is I finished this book on Monday, which was the day before classes started. You may be thinking “Wait, Monday and Friday aren’t that far apart, how can you not remember?” But I need you to understand that in those few days I’ve read so many different textbook chapters that everything in my head is all mixed up. I know the story isn’t about boring PPF graphs or the literary canon, but I can’t gather all the little crumbs that make up my knowledge of this book. Regardless, I will list the few things I remember about this book. Please give Confessions of a Murder Suspect a chance. It’s not its fault that I don’t have a good memory.

The story is a page-turner and the chapters are extremely short so I kept telling myself one more chapter until I skipped a few hours of sleep and finished it.

The end is lackluster. I will I could unlearn who the murderer is.

Patterson demonstrates that society may claim someone is “innocent until proven guilty” when actually we abide by guilty until proven innocent. Such a messed up world.

Tandy is an annoying narrator. She continuously represses memories and then makes a big deal out of them when they aren’t relevant to the central point of the story. It’s as if Patterson wasn’t sure whether to include a certain story line so he sort of half-assed the idea so it’s there and not there.